The Friction
by winterschild
Summary: In the face of a new enemy, Piccolo feels the pull of the past he left behind. Only, Gohan isn't willing to watch him fall. Violence and Swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**The Friction**

I refer to Piccolo's sire as King Piccolo as it defines the two of them, despite him not actually being a King any longer. Also, I've chosen not to adhere to the death's in DBZ and have kept Goku alive etc. I also regard Piccolo and his sire as two separate entities despite the fusion, though I will elaborate in later chapters. Hope all makes sense!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z or any of its characters or contents

**Chapter One**

An awful sort of silence descended as Dende stood at the edge of the lookout. He frowned at the impending arrival of the Z senshi, some beginning to form tiny dots in the distance. King Kai had sent them all the same message, no doubt. He strengthened the hold on the staff in his hands as he repeated the words in his mind, the rotund deity's nasal voice grating a little as he did.

'It's been a millennia since it was last seen, and we couldn't destroy it then'

Dende had waited patiently for the odd but wise being to continue.

'There's not much we can do, though I'm sure that won't stop you from trying'

He had explained, in vague detail, that a dangerous creature was on its way to Earth and that they didn't possess the power to stop it, not by a long shot. Not all the Super Saiyans in the world would hold a candle to its dark ability to savage those around it. Dende had wondered why he had bothered informing them at all, stealing the ignorance that might have given them a little bit longer to be unaware. He dragged himself from his negativity when Gohan touched down on the lookout, followed by the majority of the usual party. They milled around talking before, finally, Vegeta and Piccolo landed, though the two were evidently sparring with each other before hand. Piccolo had replaced his clothing but his skin was still mottled with cuts and bruises.

"So, when's this thing going to arrive?"

Krillin's voice was excited but fearful, an odd combination. Dende turned towards the small warrior, noting that he was wearing brown fabric trousers and a pale tucked in shirt. If the circumstances were a little more pleasant he would have smiled at the very human clothing.

"Four days at the most" He realised then, that King Kai had been even less forthcoming to the rest of the gang. Bulma then cut in, needing to be involved in the discussion.

"Right, so what are we going to do?"

"There's not…nothing. We don't even compare to it, it doesn't even have a measurable energy like we do"

The party seemed nonplussed, particularly Bulma who was immediately enraged.

"What do you mean nothing?! There must be something-"

She was cut off by the soft, delicate tones of a familiar voice wandering towards them.

"There isn't any way you can destroy it. Not exactly, any way"

Gohan whipped his head around and found himself a little shocked at the individual. He then faltered. _It__'__s got to be bad if the Supreme Kai's showed up_

Goku, who had remained unusually quiet until then, chipped in.

"What can we do then? And why is it on its way to Earth?"

"I'm not sure why it's heading here, perhaps it is drawn to power. Besides, we have already started making arrangements. Though it's not exactly going as planned…"

Piccolo interrupted then, stepping forward to stand next to Gohan. The demi-Saiyan noticed that his former mentor stood straight with some difficulty and he flickered his glance towards Vegeta briefly.

"Meaning?"

The Supreme Kai then paused, filling the Z senshi with unease.

"We know of only two people who have the ability to destroy this creature and though we're not even sure they can achieve it, they're our only option"

Seeing that he had their full attention, he continued, violet features grimacing as he spoke.

"The two individuals aren't exactly on our side, neither do they want to be. One is dead, even, but we negotiated his revival for this purpose. Though we had to make some concessions to sweeten the deal, as you would say"

Gohan pressed him. "I don't understand, who are they? If they're not on our side why would they help us?"

Their visitor smiled "Well, Tazaka, or Zak, is a particular heinous criminal on the run from galaxy authorities, though we've offered him…a clean slate for his co operation, and free passage for his companions. The other, we had to give him his youth, his strength, his body _and _his freedom" He uncharacteristically growled in resentment at the last part "You already know him as King Piccolo"

Goku blanched and stormed towards the tiny deity, ignoring the gasps of surprise from the group. He held his fists up as if to punctuate his point.

"What?! You gave him back his body? He's evil! I killed him once already, I don't want to have to do it again"

Piccolo watched with a pensive expression as the Saiyan shouted. He reluctantly raked through some of the more disturbing of his Sire's memories, something he didn't usually do voluntarily. The man was a tyrant, a mass murderer, a monster. _How can they be letting him loose? _In the back of his mind, he wondered if his Sire would first kill him, for betraying his legacy, before mutilating the rest of them. It unsettled him to say the least.

"We don't have a choice. We're not dealing with a simple enemy here. This creature's power comes from the dark, and these two are the only entities capable of even challenging him!"

"Why? Why them? I've defeated one of them!"

"Because, it has to power to drain everything that's good about you, anything that's pure. It's like a fuel. Even a soul like Vegeta's would fall to this creature. That's why we have to use these two individuals, they're powerful and there's not an ounce of goodness within them"

Yamcha grabbed Krillin's shoulder as he went to say something, allowing Goku to continue.

"When do they arrive?"

"One of them is already here"

The senshi started, Chi chi unconsciously grabbing a teenaged Goten in the process. Piccolo looked on as she manhandled her son, marvelling at her ability to go from terrified to fearless in the defence of her children. Gohan looked around carefully, not feeling any Chi. A cold chuckle then laced up his spine and he turned around. Behind Goten, Chi chi and Trunks, stood someone he never thought he'd see.

Sharp white teeth were the first thing to grab his attention, followed by the jade skin which was pulled around them in some sort of sickly smirk. Dark eyes that reminded him so much, yet so little of his mentor pierced him as he stared, shocked. He was tall, taller even than Piccolo. Bizarrely, in Gohan's opinion, he was quite smartly dressed. A dark purple button shirt with rolled up sleeves, tucked into black trousers, made the demi-Saiyan hesitate in his appraisal. The smell of sweet tobacco filled his nostrils and he glanced at the cigerette gripped between green fingers. Slowly looking back up, he stared into the Namek's eyes, they were narrower than his Piccolo's, and a great deal more penetrating..

The whole group, save a few, stepped back in fear and puzzlement. Goku stepped forward and risked a glance at Piccolo, a knot growing in his stomach. His Namekian friend had unfolded his arms and was looking rather stunned, and a little apprehensive. He had seen this only once before, when facing the androids. He swallowed before composing himself but his old nemesis spoke first, his voice deep and menacing.

"I'd say that I'm pleased to see you Goku, but we'd both know that I'd be lying"

"Same to you"

The Saiyan tried to keep the taller man's attention with his eyes, not wanting him to taunt any one else in his group. If there was anyone who this creature would want to kill, it was himself and Piccolo, then maybe Gohan just for good measure. He couldn't feel any chi but he knew that the King Piccolo before him was stronger than the man he knew, and what made him feel worse, he was a lot more calm.

"I see you've made yourself a little family" He dragged his eyes over Chi chi and his sons "How sweet"

He then looked towards Piccolo, lingering there longer than the younger Namek felt comfortable with.

Piccolo's hand twitched at the scrutiny and he swore internally, hoping it went unnoticed. He was staring straight into the eyes of the man who sired him, and it made his skin crawl. He was exhausted from sparring, aching from being repeatedly hit, and bitter from being beaten. Feeling vulnerable was just adding insult to injury. He exhaled an unconscious sigh of relief when the other man looked away, irritated that his heartbeat had hastened a little.

The older Namek chuckled again, its gravely sound making the team tense as he inhaled through the filter of his cigarette. The Supreme Kai then felt it was time to intervene.

"It will be arriving in around four days"

He exhaled partly through his nose and cocked his head.

"What is arriving?"

The Kai scowled and clenched a fist.

"The Hatu" The name still sounded foreign to Dende as he looked on in silence, and in a little fear.

"Why would I care when it's arriving?"

"Because you're going to fight it. Stop pretending that you don't know what I'm talking about _Piccolo_"

He walked forward then, keeping his eyes locked onto the small Kai, until he was within arm's reach.

"You know as well as I do that I have no intention of fighting that thing"

"Then the agreement's off"

He laughed, showing his fangs.

"And you're going to…what? Rip my soul from this body and take it back?"

"Exactly"

"Go on then" He narrowed his eyes and waited.

The Supreme Kai simply stood there. The silence rolled on for two minutes before Krillin opened his mouth in panic, unable to handle the quiet.

"Nothing's happening!"

The Namek then turned towards Goku and smirked, Piccolo fashion. From the proximity the Saiyan could see that some of the veins in his arms were dark, like evil itself had manifested itself in the man's blood. It made his insides curl. He glanced at the violet diety, _why aren't you doing something?_

They were interrupted by the detection of several power levels as they entered the atmosphere. Eighteen went and grabbed Marron, who was sitting unnervingly close to the edge of the lookout. A couple of uneasy, quiet minutes passed by as they neared. Four people eventually touched down and Piccolo rolled his eyes, _another Ginyu force_. Their leader, who he assumed must be Zak, stepped forward. His unruly dark hair reminded him of a twelve year old Gohan, though he was at least as tall as Goku. Focusing his gaze, he was mildly surprised at his attire. A thick black coat hung over what looked like some sort of uniform shirt. _Matching outfits, how predictable. _

The other three consisted of a blonde and dark haired man, and a pale blue haired woman. All three seemed uninterested or perhaps just stupid. He wasn't sure which, so settled for a combination of the two. Tired of hanging back with Gohan, Piccolo walked up to Goku and stood next to him. Something told him not to, but he forced the little voice down. He wasn't about to be intimidated by anyone, not his Sire, and certainly not by this Motley crew. He looked at the Saiyan, who smiled in return.

An educated, certain voice pierced them as Zak stopped walking. He stood facing Goku but spoke to the Supreme Kai.

"Where is it then? I've got somewhere to be"

The Supreme Kai felt his patience wane. He had known that negotiating with these two would be difficult but he was distinctly feeling like they were taking the piss.

"Four days away" He almost left them to it, if it were not his duty to ensure their co operation. He waited for an answer but none was forthcoming as Zak looked at King Piccolo and smiled.

"Well, well, well. Look who crawled from the depths of hell. Didn't think I'd see you here"

The Namek breathed through his cigerette, seeming unimpressed.

"I figured you were still alive. Since I didn't see you down there"

"You're looking rather good for a dead man"

"So are you" The threat was more than evident in his tone, but Zak just smiled toothily.

He then turned to the little Kai.

"Four days. I would have waited if I'd have known"

The older Piccolo then moved, walking towards Chi chi.

"I'll see you in hell then, if I have the misfortune of dying again that is. Excuse me _darling__"_

His creepy tone made her wince but she held her ground. She wondered if she could really feel the whisps of evil as they clawed her, or if it was just her imagination. His intimidation, however, was interrupted by a loud voice, which was now showing a little accent in its anger.

"Where are you going?"

King Piccolo ignored him, focusing his cool gaze on Chi chi, noting Goku tensing up in his peripheral vision. _Perfect_.

"I said. Where are you going?"

Zak wound his fingers around his gun as he continued.

"I've got a free run if we defeat this bastard, and I'm not giving that up because you can't be fucked to fight"

Being ignored wasn't sitting well with Zak, who's Chi was climbing alarmingly. It was then that the sharp click of a gun's hammer tapped King Piccolo's eardrums. Curious, he turned around.

The tanned hand was tense with muscle as he held the gun firm against Piccolo's head. A knowing and dark look in his wide brown eyes. The Z senshi seemed to stop breathing as a whole. Gohan then spoke, an immediate alarm evident in his voice despite what he said.

"You don't honestly think a bullet can kill him do you?"

Zak chuckled breathily and, not taking his eyes off the old Namek, grinned.

"I'm willing to bet it will. And I don't joke with my money, child"

Piccolo swallowed at that comment, not relishing the idea of a bullet in his head. He had hoped to die in battle, not that he planned on dying at all. His student looked at him nervously, unable to contain his fear at losing his old friend.

His sire took another puff of his cigerette before throwing it away. His disinterest was obvious in his silence. Simply looking on, one brow raised in badly disguised amusement at the criminal's cheek.

"Go ahead, save me the trouble"

Goku twitched as the seconds rolled by, not sure if the gun would kill his friend or not. He didn't think he'd be able to move an inch without this Zak pulling the trigger.

"You'd really let me kill your son?"

"What did you expect? They didn't hire us for our kind, loving nature, now did they?"

Zak then laughed but it was short lived. With a dead look he responded.

"You're right, what was I thinking?"

He pulled the trigger.

**Please let me know what you think! More to come.**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Friction **

**Dislcaimer: **I don't own DBZ, any of its characters or contents

Thanks for your reviews - it's hard to know if a story is going to go anywhere so it's good to have some feedback, plus thank you dragon96 and volcanic - your reviews have pushed me onwards! Not that I'm being particular, I appreciate them all.

I had one comment about Daimao being OOC - I suppose he is, but I've chosen to elaborate on his character and I've taken liberties, gave him a few extra sides I guess - please consider this a warning that while I try to keep canon as much as possible, I haven't watched much of the earlier series, so this is my perception of him. Or how he would need to be for me to write him.

**Chapter Two**

The resounding bang hammered against Gohan's ears before he could even register the gun shot. His eyes went wide as he turned his head, each movement achingly slow as his mind raced. _No_

Gohan froze when he looked at the standing form of his mentor, who's head was still intact. Zak narrowed his eyes as he watched his bullet ricochet off the Chi shield standing between himself and Piccolo. Dropping the gun to his holster, he scoffed and raised both of his eye brows at Daimao's out stretched hand. Piccolo exhaled slowly, having unintentionally held his breath, and felt the small trails of perspiration cool on his skin. The shield had felt dark and unhealthy as it wavered near him and dissipated. His wide dark eyes glanced sideways at his Sire and he felt confusion bubble in his awareness. It was clear that the other Namek had erected the shield. _But why?_

Daimao let his hand fall and now appeared to be displaying the only emotion he had shown since his arrival. Contempt, in its most pure and unrelenting form. Zak's voice literally laughed at him.

"Looks like you have a heart after all…the Hatu is going to eat. You. Right. Up" He punctuated each word with a step forward. His advance was halted only by Krillin's declaration.

"He doesn't have a heart you idiot, they're linked. If you kill Piccolo, he dies as well"

Daimao looked at Krillin then, with no small amount of anger at the apparent exposure of his weakness. He bared his fangs and held up a hand to attack.

"I will fucking kill you"

Goku stepped in his line of sight and raised his hands in mock surrender.

"Hang on-" He barely had time to dodge a green fist as it skimmed his cheek bone. Swinging around, he blocked the second punch with his left arm and choked as jade fingers wrapped around his throat, nails scraping grooves in his skin. He leanes in close, ignoring the Saiyan's thrashing and the cries of his friends.

"You don't know how much I've wanted to choke the life from you". He tightened his hands. "It would be a thrill" He breathed "to end you"

He threw Goku to the ground roughly, kicking up white tile in the process. A part of him well aware that the do gooder's many minions would have intervened if he had persisted and if his senses were correct, they weren't the insensible weak gaggle he dealt with last. He was also conscious that the monkey had defeated him once already, and he didn't want to risk a repeat performance. Not when the creature on its way to them would do that very task for him.

Bulma focused her large blue eyes on the former King, watching him hurl her long time friend to the floor. _That's the Piccolo I remember. _She had thought he had seemed calm, collected and all together not what she had known him to be_. A scam._

The Supreme Kai intervened once again, growing tired of the squabbling.

"Enough. If we're going to have a chance at destroying this thing, we need to start preparing now! Follow me" He bellowed as if his lungs weren't the size of a child's and stalked inside the palace.

The Z senshi faltered at the deity's outburst before slowly, the group began to trail after him. A few moments later, Daimao and the groupd of bandits were the only ones remaining outside. Goku waited in the doorway with an expectant look. Zak scoffed.

"You are joking" He folded his arms and scowled at his gang before nodding for them to enter, sparing an irritated glance at Daimao as he followed.

The Namekian looked at the Saiyan and allowed himself a moment to think. Co operating with the man child who killed him made his stomach turn but, as he stared, he caught himself thinking of something more important. He had no interest in ruling a world with no people, and certainly not a universe with no worlds. Once they had killed this thing, he would have his strength and his freedom, and no Goku. He watched the criminal lot stalk inside with its bleating leader and smiled, but there was no humor in it.

A few minutes later, they were all assembled around an old, oblong stone table in what was assumed to be some ancient conference room. Bulma immediately felt at home and stood to co ordinate the rabble. Videl, who had been more than quiet throughout the whole fiasco, sat down at the table and sighed. She contemplated the Gohan before her, this was a side of him she wasn't very familiar with. He was tense, irritated and…scared. If it frightened him, she should be terrified.

Most sat around the table, Krillin with Eighteen, Vegeta stood with Bulma, Trunks and Bra, the Son family, and a few stragglers consisting of Tien and Master Roshi. Dende stood with the Kai and watched suspiciously as the more irreputable of them entered. Up close, Zak's three companions had a sort of detached menace about them. As if killing didn't amuse them, crime didn't interest them, they just did it because they could and it paid well. The female's cold grey eyes locked onto Dende's as she sat on a stone bench two metres away, crossing long legs as she smiled with painted lips. The blonde male's hair was thick but a lot of it was held back by sunglasses, or goggles, he couldn't tell. He, to Dende, seemed to be the most upbeat of them, though it was at a push. The other, a dark haired man who was taller than Zak, simply stood in the background with a hand securely placed on his weapon. He had very narrow eyes and a strong jaw. _Bizzarre little group._

Daimao eventually entered, sauntering up to the table and sitting down, to everyone's chargrin, on Chi chi's right hand side. He lounged back in the stone chair enjoying her discomfort whilst Piccolo, who was opposite, tried not to look in his direction. Not out of fear, but out of an inability to deal with the reality of his existence. The older man seemed to leave a bitter taste in his mouth. Bulma's assertive voice demanded attention as she spoke.

"Okay, so what's the plan?"

The Supreme Kai answered "When it arrives, it will most likely attack the largest populations first. We'll have to catch it as it enters the atmosphere if we want to avoid a high body count"

Zak stood at the end of the table with crossed arms and despite the severity of the situation, his tone was everything but serious.

"And why would we want to avoid that?"

Daimao smiled and pulled out another cigerette, lighting it with a flash of chi. Being stationary and civil to these people was making him tense, his behaviour was a contradiction to his very soul. His need for vengeance would overwhelm his sensibility if he wasn't careful and that just wouldn't do. He had a plan, after all.

"What would _you _gain from allowing it to destory everyone before hand, exactly?"

"A bit of peace and quiet, I suppose" Everything, it seemed, as a joke to him.

The Kai dismissed him and continued, though he was careful not to be too rude, lest he lose the mercenary's interest.

"It is humanoid, most of the time, so you'll be able to engage it in battle. It feeds on positive energy, literally, by touching or even its proximity, so the rest of you will have to stay clear" He paused to ensure that he had everyone's attention "I'm not sure you have the power to kill it, but this is our only option. If, now I'm just covering every angle, there is something good somewhere deep in one of you. It will eventually find it"

"I wouldn't count on it" The dark Namekian was looking directly at his offspring, his ebony eyes willing the younger man to even glance in his direction. _Look at me you little shit. _To say that he had been disappointed that his child hadn't killed Goku and then ruled the world, was an understatement. He had then been royally pissed off to find that he had instead befriended the bafoon, and now seemed to be well integrated into their happy little clan. Had he wanted to kill him for it? At first, but as the years passed by, he found himself craving a different kind of vengeance. Something more concrete and longlasting. He was drawn away from his musings by Zak, who was countering the Kai at every turn.

"What if it gets to them, to Daimao's _son _and he dies_? _Am I going to be able to face this thing on my own?"

"No, though you won't have to" He didn't elaborate.

Goku folded his arms and his features took on a quizzical yet serious look.

"I don't-"

"It's not important. Now, you're all going to have to learn to work together if you want this to work. I have other matters to attend to"

With that, the Supreme Kai vanished, leaving Goku wondering what other matters could take precedence over this. He turned to the criminal and used a tone he usually reserved for his enemies, though it wasn't entirely inappropriate in this instance.

"Right, we'll start by getting used to each other - are you a trained fighter Zak?"

"Not really. I usually scare my enemies away"

Goku hesitates. "Right. And Daimao, I know you can fight" He thought for a moment, the Chi sheild he conjured earlier was potent and reaked of power, though it wasn't the pure kind. He wondered if the Namek had tapped into another power source, either that or his abilities have improved dramatically. Despite needing him to fight this thing, he wasn't comfortable with his old nemisis being any stronger. He schooled himself, they would work together to defeat this. Daimao cool tones contributed to the conversation.

"It fights on another level moron, so whatever method we use, it will most likely be obsolete"

Piccolo then intervened, locking his Sire's gaze with his own. It made his skin prickle.

"I'm tired of this nonsensical bullshit, can you kill it or not?"

"I hope so, it would be quite hard to build an empire out of dead bodies, after all"

The younger Namek slammed his right fist on the table, splitting the stone slightly.

"Will you shut the fuck up about your damn empire. Can you kill it or not!?"

He didn't know why his anger was burning so suddenly but he'd more than had enough of the bickering. His Sire smiled then, it was sinister but there was something else there. Gohan looked on, wondering what else the older Namekian was thinking.

"We'll have to, but to answer your question. I'm not sure"

He inhaled through his cigerette, a habit he had picked up whilst stealing the ship and travelling to Earth. Whilst the Kai's had given him a body, they had popped him into existence in the middle of space, probably deliberately to give them time to persuade the mercenary. He had a feeling that there was a specific reason for them arriving at the same time, though he wasn't sure why. He had come to Earth at the Kai's instruction, but not for the same reason. He came because it suited him to, that and he had unfinished business here. The time he had been dead, he was deprived the privillidge of HFIL and instead was imprisoned elsewhere. He didn't know the name of it but there were only a few inmates, creatures whose morals made _him _cringe. There was no escape from that place, no magical worm holes, no transportation technique, only the Supreme Kai could permit one to exit. No exceptions. When he was offered this opportunity, he felt obliged to accept.

Piccolo breathed out loudly and walked away, his cape fluttering behind him. He was outraged, unable to believe that they had to rely on such a useless bunch of lowlives to save them. Vegeta watched the Namek leave in anger, feeling every bit as irritated and taken for a ride. He had seen snippets of the same temper in their spar that day and wondered just what it would take to push the taller warrior over the edge. It was times like these he felt closer to his ally, though they didn't come around often. He looked at the man's Sire and noted the differences between the two, though he figured their fighting style would be similar. The older man was slightly taller and broader, and his features were stronger. Instead of Piccolo's almost elf like appearance, his father's jaw was wider, making the younger look delicate in comparison. He scoffed, never thinking that he would ever consider the giant Namek to be delicate. Goku distracted him from his rambling thoughts by rubbing his hand through thick black hair and held it at the back of his head, his tone more cheerful than it had been.

"Lets get started then, we don't exactly have time on our side"

Daimao stood, his skin crawling with being around Goku and so many people, milling like insects under his feet. Zak then walked up to the elder Namekian and clasped a strong hand on his shoulder.

"Right then, let's see what you've got old man"

The Namek froze at the contact, not enjoying the heat strumming through the other man's fingertips. Zak noticed and held tighter. He knew how to push Daimao's buttons, since the two were already well acquainted, and he missed it. Though he was surprised to see him just as young as he was when they first met, the Namek had been only around thirty years old.

Piccolo had left the group to stand by the window, which was just an elegantly carved hole in the wall. The mercenaries had walked outside along with his Sire, Vegeta and Eighteen. They had been silently volunteered for the time being, the hope being that their reticent and hardened exterior would sustain the least psychological damage from their visitors. Gohan walked up to his mentor and stopped short of placing a hand on his arm., he let it fall to his side.

"You don't think we can trust them, do you?"

"No"

"But we have to, right?

Piccolo growled and looked at the younger man.

"I guess so, but don't hedge your bets on those assholes being our saviour kid"

He could hear the sounds of Zak and Vegeta fighting outside, _not a fighter my ass. _They both walked into the courtyard to look at the ongoing battle. Vegeta was throwing punches at an alarming rate and Gohan noticed that Zak was holding his own, though he was clearly used to a different sort of fight. The older Piccolo stood with his arms crossed and frowning, looking so much like his mentor it struck an odd chord with him. It was then that Daimao came towards them, stopping to look at the demi Saiyan with ancient, knowing eyes.

"So this is the little monkey spawn that idiot conceived"

Gohan growled and felt himself immediately tense, it was made worse when one of the mercenary's made their way over. She came to a halt next to the former King and to Gohan's surprise, she was almost as tall. Her pale blue hair whispered around her even features, a stark contrast to the rouge applied to her lips. She was wearing a lot of dark blue layers, all pulled in by straps which held her weaponry in place. Grey eyes were amused as she spoke with soft, dulcet tones.

"So this is your kid Daimao? He's cute, I'm actually surprised"

She glanced to the man she addressed and smiled, displaying an array of straight white teeth. Piccolo's sire looked at her with badly concealed displeasure and a hint of something Gohan couldn't quite identify. It wasn't until she spoke again, that he recognised that look.

"You know, I might just hurt him so I can hear him _scream_"

Gohan had seen that look countless times in his own father's eyes, amongst the dissatisfaction, there was a protectiveness there. He didn't quite know if to believe his vision, this monster was responsible for the murder of thousands, and he wasn't capable of such an emotion. In fact, the Supreme Kai had promised as much. Something else didn't sit right, why would he be so unsettled by this woman. Sure she was a criminal, but as far as he could tell, she was hardly anything to be alarmed about.

"If you don't kill him first that is"

Could he really have a natural paternal feeling? Surely not. This creature was lacking in anything that was even remotely good. His father had told him about the man's hell bent determination to maim, destroy and rule, Piccolo had even assured him that he was, quite simply, evil. _Something's not right here._

From his periphery, he could see Goku looking in their direction. He nodded to Piccolo, who wandered in the opposite direction and made his way over to his father, keeping his voice low.

"Hey dad, I need to ask you something"

"Sure"

"There's something…wrong about Daimao"

"That's an understatement"

"No, I mean…he hates us, you, Piccolo. Yet he hasn't tried to kill you and correct me if I'm wrong, but he's hanging around Piccolo like a…"

"Vulture?"

"No, like he doesn't want him out of his sight"

Goku seemed to think then and moved closer to Gohan, making sure the Namekian ears around the lookout weren't twitching with recognition.

"He's hiding something, that's for sure. But what?"

Gohan shook his head, at a loss. Goku heard the voice of King Kai in his head and sighed in relief, hoping the blue deity would have something useful to add.

"_Hello Goku, how goes the negotiations?"_

"_Badly King Kai, I'm not even sure they'll fight this thing when it arrives"_

"_Oh they will, the deal is too sweet for the likes of them to pass up"_

"_But Zak isn't even a fighter. And Daimao would sooner see it kill us than help"_

"_I wouldn't make too many assumptions about this Zak Goku, he was chosen for a reason. And not just because he's evil. There are plenty of strong, bad people out there, many easier to please too. As for Daimao, he wants you dead. Piccolo too, I would imagine"_

Goku had figured that on his own, though he continued, wanting more information.

"_Well, at least he won't kill Piccolo. But if he wants me to die, why doesn't he just attack me now?"_

"_Wait, why wouldn't he kill Piccolo? And I imagine he's got some sort of plan for your demise"_

"_Well, he'd die as well. They're linked, remember?"_

The Deity's nasal voice rang in his mind with his chuckle.

"_They're not. Cutting the link was one of the conditions of his co operation"_

"_What? Then why did he…"_

"_Save Piccolo? You'd have to ask him"_

King Kai stopped their communication, amused at the Saiyan. This irritated Goku despite his good nature. _He saved Piccolo for a reason. _

Knowing Daimao as he did, and he really did have quite the insight, fatherly love wasn't the reason he had intervened. No, it was deeper than that. And he would get to the bottom of it before Daimao had a chance to implement any plan he had in mind.

**Please read and review! Thanks for reading**


	3. Chapter 3

**The Friction **

I'd like to thank everyone for their reviews - it's an absolute pleasure to know that I'm continuing a story for something other than my own curiosity. Criticism is also welcome, as I know I can dart around sometimes and I find it easy to go off topic.

**Dislcaimer: I don****'****t own DBZ, any of its characters or contents**

**Chapter Three**

Gohan had been unknowingly imitating his mentor, as he stood with a firm expression and arms crossed, for over an hour. Zak and Vegeta had fought for half that time and Gohan realised with irritation that it was the first time he was annoyed that an ally had beaten the enemy. Vegeta had won by landing several punches to Zak's stomach, followed by a kick to the chest, sending him backwards. The alien mercenary would have to improve ten fold if he was going to have even half a chance and it made the young man frown. Did he really want this hardened criminal, this professional murderer, to become any stronger? Once he killed the Hatu, would he turn on them? He glanced at Daimao and felt his heart beat slow in misery. That man would definitely turn on them, it was just a matter of whether or not he would do so before the creature arrived, or afterwards. He walked towards Dende, who was stood with most of the Z senshi as they spoke anxiously in low tones. The new arrivals were stood a few metres ahead of them, speaking amongst themselves, all except Daimao that is, who was stood silently to the side.

_We're making great progress _his mind droned sarcastically. Eighteen cast him a cool glance though years of experience helped him to identify the concern there. It was the same look that was mirrored in everyone's eyes that evening, that familiar sense of dread. _We should really be used to it by now. _

He motioned for the young Guardian's attention.

"Dende, considering that we only have what…four days, shouldn't we be looking at using the time chamber?"

He hesitated before answering.

"We already suggested it, but they refused"

"What?!"

With nervous fingers tapping against his staff, he answered Gohan "Once I had explained the concept, they didn't seem inclined to be filed into another dimension…where they could potentially be trapped if we destroyed the door…"

He winced as Gohan raised his voice "You told them all that? No wonder, how are we going to train them in time?!"

The young man, who was now in his twenties, took a moment to control himself before continuing the conversation.

"Okay, so no time chamber. Next plan?"

Bulma perked up then, her blue eyes sparkling with unending determination. The woman's refusal to accept defeat was something he had learned to rely on over the years.

"How do we know that Zak is even the strongest. I mean sure he's the leader but maybe they work better as a team. We should see them fight as a whole. Plus, as much as I don't want to be the one to say it, we do need to see how strong King Piccolo is"

Gohan sighed at that but his keen mind told him that she had a good point. Piccolo, who was standing to his left with his arms crossed opened his eyes at her suggestion, though Gohan could see that agreement wasn't written there. He was about to speak when Daimao appeared to his right, soft purple fabric rustling as he moved. He came to a stop far too close to the demi-Saiyan and when he glanced left, he could see that the action had drawn his mentor's attention as well. He only stopped for a moment, however, before continuing past him and towards Piccolo. The whole group stood mute as he walked, expecting him to turn and blast them at any moment. He narrowed his eyes at Gohan, making the smaller man swallow involuntarily.

As Daimao nearly brushed against Goku's son, he found himself wondering how quickly he could have reached out and snapped the young man's neck. How much he would have relished the horror in Goku's eyes, and how much he would have bathed in his own offspring's anger. He tasted bile at the thought of his boy's relationship with his enemy, a direct affront to the legacy he had been born into. _Ungrateful little wretch._

His only consolation was that he could use that friendship to his own end, knowing exactly how to penetrate his son's emotional walls. _It's time to get things rolling. _He smiled slightly at that. Before he could reach the younger Namek however, Chi chi stormed in front of him and stood defiant, hands on hips. She was scared, he could see that much, but there was a steel determination in her large dark eyes as she spoke, raising a shaking finger to point at him.

"Look here Mister! You can't just walk around here like you're king of the hill, you need to-"

Her shrill demanding was cut short by a hand around her throat. Goku, who had heard his wife's unwise ranting, was there immediately. His tone was clear and crisp, menacing but kind, it made Daimao raise an eye brow.

"Let her go"

Gohan looked on in shock, not knowing if he could pry the Namek's fingers from his mother's neck before he crushed it. Daimao simply stared into the woman's eyes, imagining that he could see the fear swirling around there. Her breathing was coming in gasps, chest heaving, heart thumping. It was intoxicating. He ignored the Saiyan's cry a second time.

"I said, let her go!"

His hold remained tight and he watched as her cheeks darkened at the exertion of her desperate movements. Her mind was screaming for someone to intervene but nobody was moving. She was clawing at his jade wrists, peeling tiny canyons in his skin, filling them with purple blood, but it was no use. She tired to cough and force through some air, groaning in relief when Piccolo placed a strong hand on his Sire's forearm and squeezed. A warning.

Daimao had not squeezed tight enough to kill her yet, something that didn't sit right with Goku. Experience told him that when this man wanted to kill, nothing short of death would stop him. _A game then? _Goku prepared himself to rip Daimao's hands from his wife, calculating how quickly he could get there and remove his grip before he decided to close the deal. It would be close, and it was making him hesitate. He held an unconscious breath when Piccolo simply stepped beside his wife and held the older man's arm. _What are you doing?_

Piccolo looked into his Sire's eyes, and at this proximity, it sent a jolt of delayed recognition and a sense of dismay through him. A mocking distortion of his own image. But there was an emotion there, a small barely visible sense of confliction. He had seen it in his own reflection so many times that he had become accustomed to its presence. His Sire was fighting his desire to strangle this woman, for some reason reigning back those murderous tendencies. Piccolo's gaze held fast, hoping he could encourage the man to let go before he choked the life out of her.

Daimao found himself locked in a stare with his son before he realised that it was a mistake. This close, he could hear his boy's heartbeat and could smell the forest on his skin. He was hyper aware of the very breath his son was holding, making it impossible for him to ignore. Immediately, he felt sick as his own position weakened and Piccolo's hand tightened on his forearm, no doubt bruising. He had to control himself, killing this woman now wasn't a part of his plan. And to his irritation, the satisfaction he had expected from draining her life was lacking. An emptiness began to fill him as she struggled beneath his palm and he scowled at himself, where was the exhilaration he had dreamed of?

After a few slow seconds, he reluctantly let go. Chi Chi dropped but Goku caught her, cupping her face to make sure she was alright. Dilated pupils stared up at him but she managed to cough and splutter back into regular breathing. Gohan darted to his father's side, shooting a look towards Goten for his younger brother to stay put. Out of danger. Daimao's arm was pulled back but Piccolo hadn't released it. _Why didn't I just kill her?_

Piccolo threw the senshi a warning glance, a non verbal 'piss off' so he could deal with the loose canon of a Sire he had in his grasp. Not releasing his hold until everyone had moved, he watched as they backed away to the other side of the lookout with suspicion. Even Zak and his team had looked on from afar, though it was with amusement.

He released a gasp as his Sire twisted his arm and dug his talons into Piccolo's upper arm, forcing the younger man to let go. Piccolo berated himself for not expecting it as the other man made it abundantly evident that Piccolo didn't have the upper hand. He bent the younger man's arm behind his back and pulled him so that his back was flush against his chest. Hissing in his left ear, Piccolo tried to lean away but he couldn't quite lean far enough.

"What are you playing at boy?"

Piccolo remained silent and bit back a moan at the pain of his shoulder trying to dislocate.

"You were trying to kill her" His words were laced with pain and loathing.

"What do you care? Don't pretend that you give a damn about that woman"

"You can't just kill innocent people"

Daimao smiled and Piccolo could feel It against the skin of his ear.

"I think you'll find that I can, and I will, whenever I choose to"

Piccolo then took on a different tact, not wanting to push his Sire into a killing spree.

"This is not the time or the place, you need to concentrate on defeating that monster when it gets here" He had to pause and speak through gritted teeth "Not attacking defenceless women who don't know when to shut up"

He kicked and wriggled as he fought to free his left arm. Gohan looked on from the other side of the lookout, hoping that Piccolo could get a hold of the situation. Krillin cast him a knowing glance, hoping that his young friend wouldn't intervene unless it was absolutely necessary.

Daimao paused in his reply, something Piccolo recognised as indecision. He could feel something unpleasant probe his mind as he squirmed, something sickly familiar.

"Do you really think _any _of us will be able to kill that thing?"

Piccolo hesitated before turning his face to the left, for once wanting to hear what he has to say.

"What do you mean?"

"It has devoured planet after planet, even the Kais are sweating with fear, and the only attack force you have is a bunch of gun wielding bandits and myself?"

Piccolo hated that he had a point.

"I guess we'll just have to make do"

"I think not. In fact, I have every suspicion that they're hoping that it won't try to fight us at all"

This line of talk was confusing Piccolo, who had stopped struggling to listen. He noticed that Daimao had loosened his hold enough to stop the pain and through the relief, he wondered if his Sire had realised.

"What happens if it doesn't fight you" Piccolo asked, but wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer.

He could feel the man's breath on his ear, its warmth a heavy reminder of his now living status.

"It devours us and with any luck, we're poison enough to kill it"

Piccolo widened his eyes at that and turned away, not wanting the surprise to be evident on his face. The possibility of his Sire being correct made his stomach turn, it was an even worse idea than them training to fight it. Success factor: minimal.

His father spun him around so that they were face to face and close, making Piccolo lean back in some sense of self preservation. He had expected to see hatred in the older man's eyes, but whatever was there instead he couldn't identify.

"I'm not sticking around to play canon fodder"

Piccolo growled, baring his fangs. It amused his Sire, who smirked at the young man's display of displeasure. He had held a very strong resentment for his offspring for a long time. The boy's betrayal lay heavy in his dark heart as he wiled away time in the afterlife. Upon seeing Piccolo, he had expected to feel an uncontrolled rage and had spent a great deal of time learning to control his temper as a result. He didn't want to inadvertently kill him, after all, but the rage was remarkably absent. In fact, when he locked eyes with his young, grumpy son his distaste and disappointment were not the only things he felt. A small prickle in his chest had made him pause and he scowled at the possible reason's for that feeling.

Piccolo caught his attention "So you're going to run away? It will only spread. Soon there'll be nothing left"

Daimao answered in an inappropriately upbeat manor.

"What do you suggest. I sacrifice myself, in a hope to save the lot of you?"

Piccolo watched him raise an eyebrow and wondered why he had even entertained this saviour notion.

"You _can _fight it, you have to"

He wasn't thrilled to hear a small amount of pleading in his own voice but he was running out of options. His Sire seemed to think for a minute and stepped back, glancing at all the eyes glued onto them from afar.

"If I fight it, It is because it suits me. Not to extend any of your companion's pitiful life spans"

"So you'll do it?" He said it too fast and Piccolo cursed himself. _Play right into his hands why don't you_

Daimao stepped forward again, the smell of sweet tobacco filling Piccolo's nostrils. His jaw clenched in anticipation.

"I'll do it on one condition"

Piccolo hesitated, knowing that any agreement with this man would be a mistake "What condition?"

His sire then raised a taloned hand and stroked his son's cheek with the back of his knuckles, but It wasn't a kind gesture, it was power play. It made Piccolo's blood freeze in his veins.

"Worry not, I'll let you know what to do when the time comes"

Piccolo swallowed involuntarily, not knowing what he had been forced to agree to. _Whatever it is, It will most likely be the death of us._

The rest of the afternoon passed mostly without incident, though, to Gohan's dismay, Daimao had disappeared for a good portion of it. The man had threatened both his parents in the space of an hour and then didn't even have the decency to stick around to face the consequences. It was only when the sun began to set, leaving an eerie twilight in its place, that he returned. Where from, Gohan had no idea. He also didn't know where Piccolo was, as the taller man had stormed into the palace to 'meditate' and had kept his Chi too low to detect ever since. The demi Saiyan was quickly becoming irritated. He watched as Daimao touched down and glanced towards the palace's dark entrance. _For fuck's sake Piccolo, stop sulking._

He was drawn out of his reverie dramatically when a hand landed on his shoulder. He spun on his heel, narrowing his eyes. Piccolo smirked at Gohan's reaction.

"You shouldn't let your guard down"

Gohan retorted "_You _shouldn't deliberately keep your chi down"

"I needed some time to think"

"What did he say to you?" _And don't brush me off Piccolo, I mean it._

Piccolo crossed his arms before he answered.

"He said that we don't have a chance. That the Supreme Kai sent them here so the creature could consume them, hoping that there's enough evil in them to poison it"

This surprised Gohan, who's brown eyes widened in response, but Piccolo didn't wait for him to answer.

"He's lying"

The demi Saiyan found himself even more confused. "How would you know that?"

"If there is one thing I know about that man, it's that he has no intention of dying. If he thought for a minute that it would simply consume him, he wouldn't be here at all"

"Then why would he…" Gohan seemed to realise something mid sentence and continued "You don't think he wants to control it or something?"

Piccolo wasn't sure. His thought process was logical, he was a strategist, not a criminal psychologist. He relied on Gohan to think in webs. Memories swirling about in the back of his mind reminded him that he had more insight into his Sire than anyone else there but he ignored it. Their discussion was interrupted by a sauntering Zak, who had more than a few cuts and scrapes as evidence of his last spar with Vegeta.

"He couldn't control it even if he wanted to"

Piccolo grimaced, he had not counted on the mercenary having sensitive hearing. Adding to his irritation, the man's thick dark hair smelled of something spicy and was heady with sweat. It stirred some sort of long lost thought within Piccolo but he tried to dismiss it, having no idea why it was familiar. The criminal gestured towards him as he spoke.

"You're just like him you know, when he was younger"

Gohan couldn't contain his curiosity, and his anger at his mentor being compared to Daimao. His tone came out a little contradictory as a result.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Zak smiled then, looking at Piccolo in a way that made Gohan's blood heat.

"He wasn't always like that. In fact, when I met him, he swore at me for walking into him on the street, calling me rude or some such"

Gohan realised then that he was referring to the original Piccolo, before he split into two halves. He chose to enlighten Zak of this.

"That Piccolo doesn't exist anymore, he split into two, Daimao being the evil half"

Piccolo added his own defence.

"Don't you dare compare me to that asshole"

Zak hummed in agreement before countering.

"Still just as cocky, two halves or not" His attention wandered as Dende walked over, nervously addressing Gohan.

"Guys, I think we're calling it a night. You're all welcome to stay here until…you know"

Gohan smiled at his young friend, knowing that the little Kami felt awkward.

"Thanks Dende, we'll come inside"

He walked with Piccolo, leaving Zak to trail behind. Eventually, everyone had made it into the conference room, seeming unsure of where to go. Mr Popo, who had simply been an observer until then, intervened. He issued each family a room, leaving Zak's team, Daimao and Piccolo to stay in the conference room. Gohan volunteered to stay with Piccolo, in case anything untoward should occur, bidding Dende and Mr Popo goodnight. The genie returned with some bed rolls and pillows before retiring.

Gohan kicked off his shoes and sat down on his bed, denim jeans pulling at his thighs as he crossed his legs. The mercenaries at the other side of the room milled around, rooting through the bags they had brought with them, disappearing off to the bathroom one after another. It was oddly organised and it made him wonder if they would indeed fight better as a unit. Piccolo had been standing behind Gohan, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, but he moved to sit down shortly after his student. The demi Saiyan couldn't help but notice as Piccolo sat only a couple of inches away on Gohan's own bed. Gohan had only seen his mentor distressed once before, and it had been brief. This proximity however, was unusual enough to make Gohan notice. Carefully, he placed a hand on Piccolo's knee and squeezed. Reassurance.

Mr Popo had lit several lamps but the warm light didn't do much to penetrate the darkness, making it hard for Gohan to see where Daimao was or more importantly, what the older man was doing exactly. He heard the soft, falsely kind tones of one of the mercenaries as he bantered with the female, chuckling heartily at one of her jokes. His blonde hair caught the light as he untied his boots and during the talking, Gohan managed to discern that his name was Siba. He appeared to have the sunniest disposition amongst them, though to Gohan it seemed hollow. This man would slaughter with a smile on his face. The thought made Gohan cringe.

Piccolo stood after a few minutes and removed his cape and turban, placing them, rather than throwing them, on the floor. He then sat on his own make shift bed, though he had no intention of sleeping, and removed his shoes. He thought about meditating but decided against it, his mind was a whirlwind and he had long since tired of trying to calm it. Goku and Krillin entered a moment later, both of them casting a wary glance towards Zak and his lot before sitting before Gohan. Taking the opportunity to leave the room, Piccolo ignored them and quickly stood, walking through the door.

The halls of the lookout were vast, white polished stone with intricate carvings too ancient to understand. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the cold floor against his feet as he moved. Opening his eyes, he turned left into a large bathroom, closing the door and locking it firmly behind him. He rarely allowed himself the luxury of bathing, preferring to submit his body to the barrage of the waterfall, but he needed to be clean. The closeness of his Sire had left him feeling infected.

The word 'condition' rolled around in his head as he unwound his sash and removed his shirt. His muscles were tense as he undressed and he rolled his shoulders in an attempt to relieve some of the strain. Stepping into the hot water, he sunk until he was chest deep. The warmth caressed his left arm, which was still sore from his Daimao's earlier assault, and he rubbed it with his other hand absently. He noticed, with some inappropriate amusement, that his Sire had gripped his pink armour only, to Piccolo's relief. His skin was sensitive to another Namek's claws and he wondered if the older man was conscious of that action. _Probably not._

The bath remained full but the water was constantly being drained and replenished, courtesy of Mr Popo no doubt. He remained there, soaking in the slightly scented water for twenty minutes or so before he opened his eyes to the sounds of footsteps along the hall outside. He listened carefully, cocking a pointed ear, but he failed to identify the owner as they walked up to the door. Opening his eyes, he peered and waited. The room was dark, the same useless lamps lining the walls at the entrance in some attempt to create atmosphere. The silence rolled on, the person apparently just waiting on the other side of the door. He began to wonder if he had imagined the noise and turned away, choosing to ignore whoever wanted to interrupt him. There were other bathrooms in the large palace.

He looked straight ahead and leaned back, blinking the lamp's echo from his eyes. He froze however, as his vision cleared. In front of him, sitting lifelessly in the water, was another person. Slamming back into the marble bath, Piccolo grunted as his shoulder blades collided with the stone, creating a wave. He couldn't help but swallow a gulp of unwanted water as it surged unpleasantly up his nose, whilst he scrambled for purchase. The creature in front of him simply sat and stared, deep eyes boring into his. As he ground hard talons into the ledge at either side of him, he used every ounce of his self control to remain still. With a cry of surprise stalling in his throat he focused his gaze on the figure ahead of him. Slowly, recognition clawed at his awareness and he belatedly choked on his own breath. For the first time, since he was a child, Piccolo was utterly terrified.

**Please read and review - much more to come!**


	4. Chapter 4

**The Friction **

I'd like to thank everyone once again for their reviews, and apologies that this has taken so long to update. Things are a little slow to begin but I am going somewhere with this, I promise.

**Dislcaimer: I don****'****t own DBZ, any of its characters or contents**

**Chapter Four**

Piccolo had frozen in place, his eyes wide, with talons trying to grind into stone. The creature in front of him was bleeding into the water and he felt bile rise in his throat as the dark substance snaked towards him. This thing used to be a human, he was certain. He had seen it before, bright green eyes sparkling in defiance even as he was dealt his death blow. The sparkling green had dulled and under decaying eye lids sat dead eyes. He wrinkled his nose as the stench of old blood and rot reached his nostrils and tried to lean back further into the marble. Piccolo swallowed an undignified groan as the person started to wade through the water towards him. Frantic, he made to jump out of the water but it clawed him back down. It's bone grip held him firmly in place as he thrashed around, splashing water into his own face. His thoughts recoiled in frantic search of logic, this was impossible. This boy had died at the hands of his Sire, the potent memory crashing to the forefront of his mind.

He could barely hear his own shouting as the young man's soft nails dug into his forearms. As he was shoved under the water again, the eyes staring down at him turned to brown and he blinked moisture from his eyes as he levered himself upright. The hands were still tight but suddenly they were gentle, solid and most importantly, warm. He coughed and blinked, finding himself utterly confused at the person before him.

Gohan's wide concerned eyes peered at him, only inches from his face. He stilled, breathing heavily, staring down at the demi Saiyan's tanned hands where they held him. Gohan's soaked shirt clung to taut arms as he knelt in the water in front of Piccolo, hair curling where the water had caught it. He looked at his mentor, who was flushed purple and shaking under his fingers. Not once had he seen Piccolo so dishevelled, so undone. _What on earth is going on?_

Gohan's features belayed his concern and Piccolo identified that look immediately, composing himself with remarkable speed, and effort. Taking a quick look around the room, he nervously glanced, seeing Goku, Krillin and Dende. Concern lay heavy in their eyes as they stood, uncertain and worried. He belatedly realised that he was naked, even more exposed as he had successfully emptied a third of the bath water in his exertions. His right foot was still braced against Gohan's thigh and he withdrew both his legs, drawing them towards his chest in modesty. Gohan loosened his grip then, rubbing the Namek's arms as he did, in an attempt at reassurance.

He had ventured into the hall to speak with his father and Krillin when he had first heard Piccolo. The sounds of shouting and choking met him as he kicked the bathroom door open, running to the large bath where his mentor was being attacked. Piccolo had been thrashing and kicking at something in the darkness and Gohan had practically flew into the water to protect him. He looked on stricken as Piccolo struggled in front of him and he shouted at his friend to stop. There was no one else there. He found himself being subject to the onslaught before he could grab the Namek's arms. It had taken over a minute for Piccolo to realise that it was Gohan, recognition finally reaching his eyes. Piccolo had been fighting the air, defending himself from some imaginary assailant.

Gohan glanced at Goku and nodded, his worried eyes asking for privacy. He walked out of the room, closely followed by Krillin and Dende. He then turned to his mentor and spoke, making sure his words were slow and clear.

"Are you okay?"

Piccolo had not felt so confused, and he quickly became angry at it, growling out his response.

"I'm fine"

Gohan raised an eye brow and inched forward on his knees, watching his mentor carefully. Water sloshed in a ripple as he moved. He placed his hands firmly on Piccolo's shoulders.

"What happened?"

Piccolo didn't answer. He was beginning to think that he had imagined the boy, he had lost himself to his imagination before, confusing his father's memories with reality when he was young. But to this extent? That was new. The water began to rise again as the bath replenished itself. Gohan, realising that his mentor was most likely going to ignore any further questions, stood and climbed over the edge. He pulled off his shirt and grabbed a towel, walking back towards the large tub.

"Come on"

Piccolo scowled. He resented being handled with kids gloves and following orders but in this instance, he was willing to overlook it to get out of that room. His former student averted his gaze and listened as Piccolo stood, walking forward with the towel and wrapping it around his mentor. He would have chuckled at Piccolo's growl at being manhandled if he weren't so consumed with worry. Piccolo stalked away from Gohan to the other side of the room. He dried himself and quickly dressed, secretly grateful that his student had decided to stick around for the time being. They both left, though Gohan led Piccolo into one of the rooms lining the hall. It was a single bedroom, tidy and clean.

The Namek frowned, he wondered if Mr Popo could have supplied them all with rooms after all, and had decided to keep their visitors in the conference room on purpose. _To keep an eye on them._

Piccolo stood at the entrance and crossed his arms, his thoughts a whirlpool, swimming with anxiety. Gohan motioned for his mentor to sit on the bed, sitting there himself also. After a moments silence, Piccolo acquiesced and sat down, though he did so reluctantly. The demi Saiyan's tone was deadly serious as he spoke.

"I need to know what happened"

The Namek pushed himself back and leaned against the wall. Flashes of green eyes, one set bright and alive, the other empty and dead, stole his thoughts as he replied.

"There was a boy"

Gohan knitted his brows but waited for Piccolo to continue.

"He attacked me" Piccolo didn't really want to go into detail. Gohan encouraged him.

"There was no one there when I came in. Did you get a good look? Was it one of Zak's or…Daimao's?"

Piccolo shook his head. "No"

Gohan's expression became stern and he was glad that Piccolo was behind him. _I know that son of a bitch has something to do with it._ He said nothing as the Namek continued.

"He was angry and he was choking me" Piccolo didn't elaborate, Gohan didn't need to know that the boy was dead.

Gohan then spoke, offering an explanation.

"When I came in, you fought me…Is it possible that it was somehow Daimao. It was some trick?"

Piccolo scowled, not entertaining that idea for a second.

"No, It was real" Now he felt utterly stupid. Of course it wasn't real, the boy was dead.

Gohan turned around then, looking at Piccolo with a concern that was now starting to piss him off.

"It's okay. We'll get to the bottom of this"

Gohan's voice was clear, but his eyes said something else. Piccolo felt unease crawl up his spine as he read the words there. _I don't believe you._

They had both returned to the conference room. Though by that time most were asleep, or at least doing a pretty good job of faking it. No one would be getting any real rest tonight. Gohan cast his brown eyes about the room and swore under his breath at Daimao's absence. He followed Piccolo to their bed rolls, undressing to his boxers and slipping under the blanket. Piccolo remained stood, wondering if he should try and meditate, sort out his thoughts. He breathed in slowly but the thought of the boy's sickly pallid skin made his stomach turn and he decided against it, his dreams were strangely more forgiving than when he dove into meditation. He stripped to his soft trousers and followed suit. Gohan smiled at Piccolo as the Namek settled down, though it did nothing to ease Piccolo as he tried to sleep amongst murderers. _You were like them once._

His mind's voice reminded him.

It was over an hour before Piccolo finally succumbed to sleep, exhaustion warring with paranoia until that point. Gohan had fallen asleep some time afterwards, though they slept lightly, some part of them aware of the danger they were knowingly putting themselves in. He took some solace that Dende had agreed to watch over the lot of them overnight but it was superficial. He watched as Piccolo drifted off, his muscles relaxing as the strain in his clenched jaw gave way to sleep. His mentor suddenly looked so much younger, gentle and calm in the barely useful light of one of the wall lamps.

Two hours had crawled by in the dead of night and Piccolo had rolled onto his side, one hand lying in front of his face. Daimao stood a couple of feet away, quietly contemplating his sleeping son. His dark eyes didn't betray any emotion, only glittering slightly as he crossed his arms. Among many things, he now considered his offspring to be utterly stupid, allowing himself to fall asleep amongst Zak and his lot. He was more than irritated that he was now standing guard. He was often considered to be evil, ruthless, psychotic. But Zak wasn't black and white like himself, he was a snake. Even now, the mercenary lay awake, his species didn't sleep though he seemed to enjoy pretending to.

Daimao returned his gaze back to Piccolo and watched as the younger man's face contorted for a moment and his breath quickened. The sleeping Namek rolled onto his back and moved his arms feebly before settling again. He mumbled something and Daimao's ears flickered to hear it, but he only caught one word.

"Azaka"

The older Namek narrowed his eyes. A strange sensation pooled in his chest, though it had been such a time since experiencing any emotion other than loathing, he couldn't identify it. His gaze drifted to Azaka, who was lying ramrod straight, his chest rising and falling in a calculated rhythm. At this distance, he wondered if the other man had heard it. He detested the mercenary, not because of his nature, but because a past he had long since forgotten was now thrust to the forefront of his mind. He scowled.

He remained standing over his child until the morning, more than aware that over half of the room's occupants were feigning rest. He hadn't known that Dende was watching them with keen eyes.

Piccolo's had woken long before he opened his eyes, listening to the hurried conversation from the other side of the room. He didn't catch a lot of it, but it was mostly casual talk of their plans once they left this planet. Either they intended to win, or they were going to leave before it had a chance to kill them. _Of course they're going to run, cowards._

They had dressed and cleaned quickly, most of the z senshi and their unwelcome guests meeting in the conference room. Mr Popo had served up a spread of food for breakfast and it wasn't long before the Saiyans had started eating. Zak and his three companions had joined them, though they ate with normal vigour. The female, who was pouring herself a cup of coffee, turned to Goku and asked him a question.

"What is the plan for today?"

The Saiyan paused mid mouthful, surprised at her initiation of the conversation. He swallowed clumsily and answered her.

"We're going to fight in groups. Four of us, against the four of you"

She raised a thin eye brow and continued.

"You think you will beat us" It was a statement, although the mocking question was underlying in it.

_Actually, I hope you do. _It made him feel ill to think those words. Her low tones reached his ears once again, though this time her question wasn't directed at him.

"Aren't you going to join us Piccolo?"

Gohan, who was sat opposite his father, turned round to look at his mentor, who was standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the stone wall a few feet away. The Namek opened his eyes and stared at the female mercenary.

"No"

She smiled and Gohan spoke.

"What's your name?"

She sipped her drink, enjoying the attention. Her male counterparts were good companions but they were poor company. Zak and Siba were seated at either side, the other mercenary was seated at the end.

"Toya" She pointed to the blonde "this is Siba, and he" She motioned to the end of the table "is Jan"

The strong male, who was eating and ignoring them glanced up at the sound of his name. Only to continue to ignore them once again.

Krillin, Eighteen, Vegeta, Bulma, Yamucha Chi chi and Videl had stopped eating to listen to the conversation. Goten and Trunks continued to plough their food.

"Well, nice to formally meet you" Gohan's lie was flawless and he punctuated it with a small smile.

Zak stood, his sand coloured shirt rolled up to his elbows, revealing a tan marred with scars. Everyone had started talking and slowly, the light hum of conversation filled the room. Mr Popo returned with more food and Dende took a seat to pour himself some tea.

The mercenary walked to Piccolo and leaned against the wall next to him. The Namek had been raking over the memory of the previous night, trying to identify just what had attacked him. He tried to ignore the other man but spice and power filled his senses and like the day before, a distant memory tried to surface. The other man crossed his arms and spoke quietly but confidently.

"Your friends are unrealistic, do you not think?"

Piccolo opened his eyes but didn't turn to the other man. _Yes, completely and utterly out of their minds mad to trust you_

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, we have no intention of dying so this planet can be spared and I know that you know that"

The Namek turned, though he had to stop himself from bristling at Zak's proximity.

"Then why are you still here?"

Zak leaned in, making Piccolo lean back a couple of inches. Goku kept an eye on the both of them though to the rest of the group, the moment went unnoticed.

"I can't decide if you know, or if you really are as ignorant as you're making out"

Piccolo knitted his brows, uncrossing his arms. He had forgone the cape and turban and was now regretting it.

"I don't know what you're trying to insinuate"

Azaka laughed under his breath and brushed his hand against the Namek's, making the jade warrior flinch in reaction.

"I can't _wait _to fight you boy" With that, he moved away, casting a knowing glance at Daimao, who was stood against the wall at the other side of the room.

The dark Namek narrowed his eyes at the scene in front of him, the mercenary was all but crawling over his son and amidst the bustle of conversation, he couldn't hear their words. He returned to his musings. The entity would be there in two or three days and he had only a handful of hours to implement his plan. Unbeknownst to him, Zak was thinking the exact same thing.

Gohan peered up at Daimao and watched as the cogs turned under his now smooth emerald skin. An ancient mind thinking through old tricks. He felt like they were being attacked from all angles and he slammed his fork down onto the table. He stood and walked out of the room, eager to get on. The rest of the senshi slowly followed suit, finishing their breakfast quickly.

On the lookout, Piccolo was one of the last to join them, walking with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. Goku, Vegeta, Goten and Trunks stood ready to fight the mercenaries. Dismissing their weapons reluctantly, they faced one another up to battle. Piccolo was staring down the middle of the lined up parties, the far reach of the sky as a backdrop to the white tiled surface. It was bright now and probably around eight o'clock. As Gohan spoke, laying out the rules of the spar, Piccolo noticed something on just the other side of the fighters. Down the centre, stood just a few feet away from Goku and Zak, stood a man he didn't recognise. He could see the sparkle of light reflecting against the man's iris', the dirt that lay thick in the man's light hair. The dried blood as it lay like a layer of film over the man's soft tissue, where the skin had worn away. His heartbeat suddenly rammed in his chest.

Piccolo glanced around, desperate for someone to see him, frantically looking for recognition. No one flickered an eyelid, all were glued to the fight before them as they prepared. His breath quickened at the prospect of it being a delusion and he uncrossed his arms in exasperation and no small amount of concern. He looked back at the figure, who had shuffled forward. His eyes were glinting in an unearthly sort of pleasure and Piccolo swallowed, his throat scraping.

Gohan had stopped talking and in his periphery he noted his mentor's strange behaviour. He allowed his father to continue and looked pointedly at Piccolo. The look in the Namek's eyes was too similar to what he had seen the night before and he glanced towards the spot that fixated Piccolo so. The expanse of the lookout was clear, empty except those accounted for.

Piccolo's eyes met Gohan's and in just a moment, the Namek composed himself. When Piccolo looked back at the lookout, the man was gone.

Daimao watched his son's actions and smirked, the light casting shadows as he moved a high cheekbone. For many years he had been without entertainment and he was taking pleasure in watching the young Namek's psyche take a plunge into disparity.

**Please read and review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**The Friction **

Longest update, ever. Apologies.

**Dislcaimer: I don****'****t own DBZ, any of its characters or contents**

**Chapter Five**

Surprisingly, Toya was the first to move, albeit before the start of the match was announced. She jumped into Goten, elbow first, and struck him hard in the ribs before watching him fall to his knees in unconcealed alarm. Krillin let the whistle lay limp on his bottom lip as Goku, Vegeta and Trunks flew into action. In barely a second, all eight fighters were engaged in battle. Gohan watched and winced as Toya landed another hard hit to his brother and he watched her smile with too much pleasure for a simply spar. Goten stood and flashed a smirk at Gohan before disappearing, only to re appear in front of Toya and kick her in the stomach. He followed it with a punch to her jaw as she leaned forward. He didn't make allowances for girls in the battlefield. After all, their enemy wouldn't.

Goku punched Zak once in the jaw and, using both firsts, he brought them down on his back as he doubled over. He didn't have time to defend himself before Jan, abandoning his bout with Trunks, appeared before him and struck him across the face. Gohan then watched as the four fighters joined forces and attacked Goku as a group. Vegeta, Trunks and Goten stood back and watched the spectacle. Goku was soon overwhelmed, trying to simultaneously defend and attack, not being able to counter their moves quick enough. Vegeta waited for as long as his limited patience would allow and in a huff of exasperation he intervened, bringing the two young demi-Saiyans with him.

Piccolo didn't move or make a sound as the fight eventually came to a close and remained stood, arms crossed, as Gohan walked the short distance towards him. The younger man had a faint frown on his features and Piccolo couldn't help but try to avoid his piercing gaze.

"What do you think?"

Piccolo ignored the question and closed his eyes. _I don't know what to think._

"Piccolo"

The Namek then glanced at his former pupil and, not wanting to encourage the boy's impending inquisition, he grunted.

Gohan sighed and looked to his sweating and slightly bloodied father. The senshi had won but only just and he couldn't work out if he was thrilled or disappointed. He waited another half a minute for the Namek to speak and when it became apparent that he was wasting his time, he walked away. At Gohan's retreating back, a foreign feeling that he couldn't name crept its way into Piccolo's chest.

He was busy puzzling over the sensation when he heard his Sire's gravely tones to his right.

"Ready?"

Piccolo scowled and replied roughly.

"For what?"

Sharp teeth glinted at him as the older man smiled.

"To fight, boy, if you dare"

The younger Namek rolled his eyes at the threatening talk and wanted, really wanted, to rip that sick smile from his Sire's lips. He then turned, tired of feeling like he was always on the back step, and walked right up to the other Namek. He caught the man's shirt in his fists and pulled him close, practically spitting in his face.

"Fight you? You're lucky that I haven't killed you yet"

Daimao chuckled and raised his arms to grab Piccolo's wrists. He held them for a moment before pulling the younger man's hands away, a task which he performed with alarming ease. He then moved so close that their noses were almost touching. Piccolo's heart was suddenly hammering and he cursed internally, sure that his Sire would be able to hear it._ Like some cornered animal._

"We are what we are, boy"

_What!?_

He didn't have a chance to challenge him as Eighteen's voice rung out, she and the rest of the senshi had moved closer.

"That's enough. All this pointless posturing is getting us nowhere"

"I don't know, it looks like he's just dying to fight" Zak smirked and waltzed up to the pair.

Piccolo was still reeling from the older man's insult and in his fury, made a snap decision. One he was sure to pay for later. He yanked his wrists free, tearing his own flesh in the process, and rammed his own body into his Sire's. He didn't have a chance to smirk at the temporary display of shock on the other man's face as he collided with him onto the tiled floor, and he regretted it. Digging his talons into the older man's upper arms, he snarled and slammed his head into the older Namek's nose. This time he did smirk when he heard the resounding crack against his keen ear drums.

Gohan's startled cry went ignored as Daimao reeled back, purple blood blurring his vision for a moment, and to Piccolo's shock and humiliation, started to laugh. A real, thick, hearty laugh.

_Son of a bitch!_

As soon as it started, the humoured rumble stopped, and Piccolo glared at the man below him.

"Temper, temper young-" Daimao didn't finish his sentence, as his offspring cut his mouth off with a fist. It was quickly followed by two more strikes, each blow knocking the Namek's face further and further to the side. He raised his fist for the fourth time but it seemed that his Sire had run out of patience. Swiftly, he sat up, grabbed his son and threw him across the Lookout.

Vegeta frowned as he watched the jade warrior graze the lookout and tumble almost to its edge before he stopped in a crouch, one taloned hand ground into the floor. He had not seen the Namek act so irrational before, angry yes, fuming even. This temporary lapse in judgement was irritating him, though he wasn't sure why. He didn't finish the thought as the air around him was displaced.

Daimao was in front of Piccolo in an instant, delivering a damaging kick to the younger Namek's midsection as he stood. Piccolo was forced to crouch, again, this time recoiling from the blow. He barely had time to inhale before his Sire picked him up by the collar of his cape and removed his turban. A dark smile graced his features and Piccolo used the man's moment of power play to hook his right leg around Daimao's left and pushed him to the ground. He then, to Daimao's chagrin, vanished.

The older Namek stood with making a sound, brushing dust and debris from his shirt, and looked around. The senshi were looking on from afar and he narrowed his eyes to see if his pathetic sap of a son was hiding among them. He threw up his forearms just moments before Piccolo's fist struck him. Seeing the defense, Piccolo halted the punch and instead channelled the momentum through his spine and into his leg for a quick and powerful roundhouse kick. He was relieved the hear the impact of his calf against the man's torso, followed by the rewarding grunt and a hiss as he was thrown to the ground.

Piccolo stepped back and clenched his fists in anticipation of another attack, he wasn't disappointed. Daimao stood slowly and he proceeded to brush the dirt from his shirt a second time. This irked Piccolo in a way that wasn't reasonable and for some reason, the action struck false. _He's playing me._

Daimao halted in his movements and slowly dragged his gaze up to look Piccolo in the eyes.

"Took you long enough"

Piccolo's widened eyes barely registered the next move as he was kicked once again in his lower chest, hearing the sharp crack of his own ribs breaking. Blood surged up his throat, clogging the back of his mouth as he groaned involuntarily. Daimao's claws grabbed his head roughly and in an instant, he was on his back and to his horror, his head was pulled up a couple of inches. He cringed internally at his own foresight before his skull was smashed into the Lookout's floor. A nauseating disorientation made itself known immediately and he grunted in pain. It was the second time, he noted with irritation, that he had voiced his pain that day.

Gohan, Goku and Vegeta had walked closer to better observe the battle and Gohan was clearly having trouble containing himself. His voice was thick and strained as he shouted.

"Piccolo!"

He moved forward to help but Goku's hand landed in his shoulder in warning, accompanied by a look that said 'don't get involved'. He had wanted to gauge Daimao's strength but he uncharacteristically scowled at the circumstances. _Just not like this._

Gohan held his ground reluctantly but didn't miss the concern in his father's eyes.

Piccolo cursed as his head was pulled up a second time and grimaced as blood began its unpleasant descent down the back of his neck as a result. A second later, pain exploded a again as his head was slammed down and the bone fractured on impact. Darkness was now beginning to encroach upon his vision and his bleary pupils dilated as he tried to look at his Sire.

Daimao's features were fierce, his fangs bared in displeasure as he held his spawn's head in his large hand. He lifted the boy's skull once again but hesitated this time as he watched the young man's eyes glazed over and the hate filled expression smooth itself out. _He's losing consciousness._

For a reason he couldn't explain, he let go. Then a sensation he couldn't name made its intense presence known in his chest. _Have I killed him?_

_Feh, sooner than I had planned but the end result is the same. No where near as fun…_

His mind's declaration did nothing to ease the peculiar pain in his torso and he frowned as he tasted bile in the back of his throat. The word left his mouth before he could even think to stop it.

"Guardian!"

Dende appeared in an instant, clutching his staff with the worry that was so clearly etched upon his face. His nervous disposition was not helped by the searing look the former King turned upon him and his voice showed it.

"Y-yes?"

He opened his mouth to speak but he said nothing. Never in his long life had he not known what to say, or not had an explanation for his actions. Gohan's urgent tones answered for him.

"Heal him Dende!"

The young Guardian stepped forward and Daimao glared at the younger Namek as he stood. Watching as Dende started the healing process. His anger was so hot under his skin, _what the hell do I care what happens to him?_

Piccolo's ears flickered slightly as he woke and for a moment he felt nothing. He concentrated on the sounds of distant fighting, women talking and footsteps nearing. A moment later, the pain made itself well and truly known. He exhaled in a rush as his head started to pound and he reluctantly opened his eyes. Belatedly, he wondered how much time he had wasted lying here when that blasted creature was only a few days away. The bed he was on creaked as he shifted, experimentally moving his limbs to assess the damage. He made an awkward, displeased face at the two blankets that shifted with him. _It's not even cold._

"About time"

He flinched but stopped himself short of a full scale yelp at the voice.

"How long have I been out?" His voice scratched as he spoke and his thirst began to crawl behind his tongue.

"An hour, if that. Still time to humiliate yourself further" Vegeta sneered at the bed ridden Namek.

Piccolo scoffed and sat up, ignoring the bleating in his brain. The prince was interrupted by Chi Chi as she came blustering into the room carrying an assortment of medical supplies. She was shortly followed by Gohan, who's voice reached them before he did.

"Mum wait! I really don't think he'll appreciate"

He stopped with one hand on the door frame when he noticed that his mentor was awake. His expression softened and Piccolo was immediately irritated.

"Cut that out, I'm fine"

Chi chi ignored both of them and dipped a white cloth in some water. Piccolo watched as she moved to place it on his forehead, raising his hand to her wrist as she did so. His tone was clipped.

"What are you doing?"

She scowled, her dark eyes reminding him of a young Gohan defying him in the wilderness.

"You have a concussion"

He hissed against the throbbing in his skull.

"And I suppose that wet cotton is going to fix it?"

She huffed and stood, throwing the cloth at him. He didn't think for a minute she would do that and he watched in undisguised horror as it slapped him in his face.

Vegeta's snickering was the last straw. _What was the tiny Saiyan even doing here?_

He threw the blankets from him and swung his legs over the bed. Topless and, to his immense irritation, bandaged, he stormed by her and shoved Gohan out of the way. He turned right but stopped abruptly.

Standing at the end of the long, stone corridor was the creature that he had seen on the lookout earlier that day. Wearing its skin like clothes and seeping with liquid that was congealing as it met the air, it moved its mouth in some sort of smile, or frown, he couldn't tell.

He was decidedly not amused.

He swallowed against the nausea that was no doubt a result of his earlier treatment and turned back, charging into the room he had just left. He slammed the door. _I'm hallucinating._

Gohan and Chi Chi looked at one another whilst Vegeta simply raised an eye brow. Gohan eventually spoke.

"Dizzy?"

Piccolo gave him a scathing look before answering hoarsely.

"No…Yes" _Dizzy, how ridiculous. Is it really that much better than crazy?_

They were interrupted by a tentative knock to the door and Dende popped his head around the sculpted wood.

"Hey guys, sorry to intrude. It's lunchtime"

Gohan and Vegeta sprung to attention, following the smaller Namek out of the door. Chi Chi and Piccolo blanched at their behaviour before slowly following them out. Piccolo was sure to pick up his shirt on the way and to his immense relief, the creature was not there.

"I've been doing some research with Dende - the library here really is extensive! We've not found out much but it might help"

Bulma's voice was laced with excitement as she stood and addressed everyone. The table was once again adorned with food and jugs of water, feeding the seated individuals who half listened to the female scientist. Piccolo had tried to avoid the table but Gohan had grabbed his arm and had all but wrenched it out in pulling him into a seat. He sipped at his water, noticing that his Sire had not touched his. He couldn't help but glare with absolute hatred at the older Namekian and he wished he had though to poison the man's water, just in case he was stupid enough to take a sip. Bulma continued.

"There are some references to the Hatu in some of the older texts, they're a few centuries old though and they're proving a little hard to translate"

Goku intervened, he was sitting opposite but one to Piccolo, stuffing him safe. Piccolo frowned at the display.

"Can't Dende read them?"

The guardian answered "No, they're in an old Namekian tongue. I've sent a message to Namek to see if someone there can help us"

Daimao ignored the conversation as it continued and glanced at his seething Son. He looked well enough, if tired, and he had overheard the others as they spoke about his condition. It would make playing with his mind easier, at least. As he picked up his glass of water, he caught the last part of Bulma's musings.

"It seems that it wasn't born, from what we can tell, it was engineered"

He halted with the glass an inch from his lips and his dark gaze flickered up at Zak, who was seated on the other side of Gohan,. The criminal cast him a serious and calculated look before glancing down.

Piccolo noticed the quick exchange between the two unwelcome visitors and puzzled for a moment. He then decided to keep it to himself, lest they realise. The Bastard's almost certainly knew something the rest of them didn't, perhaps something vital that could mean the difference between victory and defeat.

Between life and death.

Piccolo's head continued to trouble him and he stopped drinking, the liquid was merely sloshing around in his stomach, begging to be dispelled. They had only the rest of today and two, maybe three days left and he grew exasperated with their leisurely eating. _Must they eat so many times a day?_

Dende interrupted his internal complaint, though he hadn't noticed the smaller Namek leaving the room.

"They're sending someone from Namek to translate, he should be here in an hour. King Kai has agreed to aid in the transportation"

Daimao drank his water in a couple of mouthfuls and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. _Typical Namekian do-gooder, getting involved in that which does not concern him. I guess I'll have to move things along. _He chuckled to himself darkly, drawing more attention to himself than he had intended.

Eighteen looked up and noticed the pure disdain that marred the former King's features. She was not easily frightened and was notoriously thick skinned but her hardiness did nothing to prevent her stomach from turning. It was like he was making the air black with his presence. She looked away.

Krillin noticed her appraisal and took her hand underneath the table._ If he's scaring her, I should probably be wetting myself. _He smiled slightly in a mixture of shame and amusement. His warrior days were over.

They remained at the table until the Namekian translator arrived, unknowingly, since he was a half an hour early. Dende shuffled underneath his robes to greet the new arrival.

"Barracus! It's been such a long time!" He clasped the older man's hands in his own and Daimao scoffed. _Kid doesn't know the meaning of a long time._

"Please" His voice was a little deeper though not much "call me Bara. It's lovely to see you again"

"You're earlier than we expected"

"I heard you were in quite the hurry. Now, show me the texts and somewhere I can work quietly. I need to start right away"

Barracus' jovial personality, combined with the wisdom of an old man, made most in the room warm to him instantly. He stood around six feet tall but he wasn't very broad. He was an academic, even down to the books that he carried with him in his satchel.

Dende nodded and gestured to the older Namek, who was sporting a few light wrinkles, to walk through the arched doorway and into the hallway. Daimao paid so little heed that Piccolo found himself wondering if he had imagined the suspicious exchange earlier. He narrowed his eyes but his thoughts were cut short by Goku announcing the continuation of their training. He hissed as the Saiyan told him that he would be keeping out of it for a couple of hours, in case he suffered a another 'dizzy spell.'

"I don't follow _your _instructions, you monkey man child"

But he did, and how he hated himself for it.

They had trained for another three hours, trying to figure how to work together more than anything else. Training to increase their strength this late in the game was going to be pointless. They could press their advantage as a whole though. If it wanted to fight them that is. If it wanted to just eat them, as his Sire suggested, at least they'd present an organised meal.

His lids lowered as he felt drowsiness drag his eyes closed and he cursed at the futility of it all. Two days left, maybe, and then what? He could die well with the knowledge that he was well rested?

He nodded to Gohan, who was taking a quick rest from fighting, and walked inside the palace. Mediation, he decided, was in order. It would calm him at the very least, and it might even enlighten him to some fact he had previously not been aware of. Unlikely, but worth a shot.

The air was a great deal more chilled as he walked within the corridors of the palace and after a few minutes he had to double check that his Sire had not followed him here from the Lookout. He shook his shoulders slightly, figuring that it was probably the lack of his cape, and continued. He went to take a left but once again, he found himself pinned to his position.

The door ahead of him stood open, casting a few rays of light through the opening. It wasn't the eerie suggestion of light, however, that caught his attention. It was the thin trail of dark viscous liquid that seeped from underneath it. He scowled, baring his fangs in intense frustration. _Enough of this bullshit._

He stormed towards the door, shoving the wood so hard that it crashed against its hinges and hung open awkwardly. Piccolo looked in the room and saw the creature, _that man, _who had stood on the Lookout a few hours before. The thing that had loitered in the corridor, waiting for him. Not even having the gall to attack him. He snarled as the man's putrid flesh slipped from his gum. He thought that once it had been his lip. Wrinkling his nose at the unholy stench, he spoke through clenched teeth.

"What do you want?"

The man moved his mouth but the sound that came out was guttural and inhuman. The Namek clenched his fists and demanded an answer once again.

"Who sent you?"

It shuffled slightly towards him and its clumsy balance faltered, it fell at Piccolo's feet. For some unknown reason, the Namek did nothing as it moved its wet fingers, bones partially covered in rotting flesh, and it grabbed his pants leg. For a creature lacking in a great deal of its muscle mass, it's grip was strong.

He didn't inhale for so long that he made a cracked noise as it clambered upon him, dragging its sagging torso up his own body.

It was too much. Piccolo moved a taloned hand and grabbed the creature by its throat. He then shoved the living carcass back, gathered as much chi as he dared without actually forming a chi ball, and threw it into his punch.

The blood warmed his hand as he drove it home, his fist splintering bone.

Wait, splintered?

Strong bones?

A shard pain in his hand and wrist struck him and he wondered if underneath all that mottled flesh, it was made of reinforced concrete.

Piccolo blinked and for a moment he wondered if he had imagined the whole thing. It was only a moment though, and he had so badly wanted it to last forever. The strangled cry that escaped him did not become him.

Violet blood pooled beneath the limp form on the floor and Piccolo couldn't help but stare at Barracus, as he choked for a moment before falling still. The blow had shattered his face and part of his skull. Piccolo watched for signs of life but he knew better than that. After all, he had inflicted worse than that. The damage was irreparable.

He looked up and noticed the tome which was open on the desk only a couple of feet away and cringed.

It was then that, if it was even possible, he made his biggest mistake.

He grabbed the notes and turned and left the room, leaving the broken door to hang behind him.

Schooling his breathing, he walked forward down the corridor, plastered in blood. He stopped short of the door to the Lookout, the light beating its way towards him like a siren. He glanced at Gohan with a nervous gaze as the younger man dropped to his knees and charged a chi ball at his enemy in the distance. He remembered the look in the demi-Saiyan's eyes the day before, the look that told him everything that he needed to know.

_I don't believe you._

He inhaled and, closing his eyes, he stepped back into the Lookout's welcome shadow.

**Please read and review!**


End file.
